Looking across the landscape of contemporary culture

What if there were another you?

What if there were another you? I don’t mean just an identical twin or a clone with the exact same genes. I mean someone who was like you in every way, the same body and mind and heart, the same past and experiences and memories, the same thoughts and feelings, the same decisions taken and the same mistakes made, standing in front of you now – but not you.

This is the idea at the heart of the film Another Earth, which jumps straight into my Top Ten films of the year. [Major plot spoilers follow – sorry!]

Another planet appears – just a dot in the night sky. As it comes closer it becomes apparent that this planet is the same size as ours, that it even has the same structure of continents and oceans as ours. Then, in a magical sci-fi moment, as the woman responsible for ‘first contact’ with the new planet speaks on a microphone, she realises that the woman talking to her on the other end is herself. [It’s on the trailer here – I’ve ruined it for you!]

So the synchronicity between the two planets and between each corresponding person is absolute, apart from the fact that it inevitably gets broken by the appearance of the other planet – so the woman is not hearing the same words ‘she’ is speaking on the other planet, but actually having a non-symmetrical conversation with her other-self.

First of all, you are simply in sci-fi territory. I love these films. And in fact this film is really a re-make of another film from the ’70s (I can’t remember its name – brownie points for anyone who can help) where the US sent a spaceship to another planet on the other side of the sun, only to discover that the planet was the same as the earth – apart from everything being a mirror image of this earth. So our astronaut lands on the other planet, and another astronaut from that planet lands on our earth, with everyone thinking that our astronaut has come back early – until he sees that all the writing here is in reverse. Anyway – this is classic sci-fi.

But very quickly it becomes philosophical. Looking at this other earth in the sky above, marvelling that we can behold such a world, you realise that this is exactly what we do whenever we reflect on our experience, or use our imaginations, or question what is going on in our own minds. The remarkable thing about human beings is that we can ‘step back’ from our own experience (inner and outer) and view it; that we can ‘see ourselves’. The strangeness of the film brings to light the strangeness of ordinary human life.

We take this ability to reflect for granted, but it really is the key factor that seems to distinguish us from other animals. No-one today would deny that animals can be incredibly sophisticated and intelligent; and on many measures of intelligence they would beat us. But this power of self-reflection seems to be one of our defining characteristics; and it surely connects, in ways that aren’t always clear, with human freedom – the freedom we have to think and imagine and act in ways that go far beyond the instinctual programming we receive as bodily creatures.

So the wonder that Rhoda Williams feels staring up at this other planet is no more than the wonder we should feel whenever we step back and reflect on ourselves.

Then there is a theological angle too. To cut a long story short: Rhoda unintentionally kills the family of musical conductor John Burroughs in a driving accident, soon after the planet is discovered. He is haunted by the loss of his family, and then receives a ticket to travel to the other planet – a ticket that Rhoda has for herself, but she decides to give it to him. Why would he go? Because if the synchronicity between the two worlds was broken when they started to impact on each other, then perhaps the accident did not happen on the other planet, and ‘his’ family is still alive up there.

I call this a theological idea, because it’s about the possibility of redemption, of putting right something that has gone irredeemably wrong in the past. That in some sense this action might not have happened, or it might be possible to go back and undo the harm that has been done. This is crazy of course – in normal thinking. But if it’s crazy, why do we spend so much time imagining/hoping that somehow we could put right what has gone wrong? I don’t think our almost compulsive inability to stop regretting the mistakes we have made is simply a dysfunctional habit that we can’t let go of; it’s a yearning for forgiveness and redemption, for someone to go back in time and allow us to change things, an echo of a possibility of renewal that we can’t justify at a rational or philosophical level – because the past is completely out of reach. It’s about hope.

Or the film is about conscience – the possibility of imagining an action now, as if it were happening, and asking if we really want this parallel imaginative world to unfold into reality, or if we would regret it. So the work of conscience, and of all conscious deliberation, brings us up against another parallel world that is exactly the same as ours – only we have the power to decide whether it shall come into existence or not.

At the very end of the film, in her backyard, Rhoda meets ‘herself’ – we presume she has come from the other planet, with her own ticket, which she didn’t need to give away, because the accident there didn’t happen. All we see is her catching the gaze of the other woman before her, and recognising her to be herself – but not. Then the film ends immediately. It’s incredibly moving. As if a lifelong search, unacknowledged, is finally over; as if, miraculously, I step away and see myself for who I am, and see myself seeing myself. And that, miraculously, is in fact what happens every time we know ourselves through self-reflection, through self-consciousness. Human beings are not just conscious. We are self-conscious. That’s the idea that the film opens up so well.

If I met my other self I think we’d spend the first half hour going round the house trading single socks to make pairs and completing chess sets with missing pieces (hopefully not the King or Queen). I only have 3 of my favourite coffee mugs left, but one of us could have 6!

We can look into a mirror and see our own reflection, but really only in glass. We can look into another’s eyes and see Christ in them reflecting back to us. But just Imagine if we could truly look straight back into our own eyes. And see Christ truly looking right back at us. Shining. How amazing would that be x

It might, just, be incredibly dull. What insights will this other person have which I have not had? I would not even have the delight of being seen and understood by another person: if I say something which is simply illusion, she will have the same false idea.

The conductor’s position is more intriguing. Suffering such a huge loss without anyone to blame but God, could he bear to see this family? The temptation to kill his doppelganger-

On a bit of tangent – I have long held the view that there are other worlds out there beyond our imagination/comprehension.

If you just look at my life time – all 63 years of it – the change has been remarkable.

I grew up in Walsall an industrial town born of ‘working class’ (but aren’t we all) parents when travelling to nearby Birmingham or Wolverhampton was an excursion, visiting London or the sea side at Blackpool a virtual expedition.
Now we think nothing of going to the other side of the world!! Methods of communication have seen phenomenal changes, telephones once only affordable by the rich now in everyone’s pocket or handbag.

Globalisation – or a one world economy is practically (if not already) with us and hopefully one day so will be the more equal share out of the of earth’s resources.

What is all this leading to – well instead of Staffordshire or Surry or England or Scotland or GB or the US, we will have Earth. Instead of conflict in North Korea, Syria or the Arab Spring our perceived ‘enemy’ (that’s the way us humans react to anything we don’t understand) will come from the universe, that at least will unite us as global nation, as then we will have someone else to fight.

As we know, our interpretation of God’s teaching is limited by our ability to rationalise it – and as simple soles we relate it to what we can understand, but then if we take time out to wonder anything is possible.
Dennis

FYI – I think the movie you’re referring to is Journey to the Far Side of the Sun (1969). Also know as Doppleganger in Europe.

Personally, I think the ending of the film was poetically simple – the crash did occur on the other Earth. Aside from the protagonist’s intoxicated driving, the appearance of a parallel Earth in the sky was the event that ultimately caused Rhoda to crash during the opening events of the movie (she was staring at it while driving through the intersection).

The fact that a parallel Rhoda showed up at the end of the movie directly implies that events were similar on the parallel Earth. Rhoda’s lament about tragedy, forgiveness, and recompense was what won her the ticket to parallel Earth. Hence, the Rhoda from the parallel Earth must have experienced an equally horrific tragedy to inspire her to write a winning letter and win a ticket to Earth at the end of the film.

The true interest in this ending is how the two Rhodas’ lives took different paths (AFTER the crash) that resulted in different outcomes.

About this blog

Looking across the landscape of contemporary culture - at the arts, science, religion, politics, philosophy; sorting through the jumble; seeing what stands out, what unsettles, what intrigues, what connects, what sheds light. Father Stephen Wang is a Catholic priest in the Diocese of Westminster, London. He is currently Senior University Chaplain, based at Newman House Catholic Chaplaincy. [Banner photo with kind permission of Matthew Powell]

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